


king of my heart

by Izzyface



Series: mary, mary, quite contrary [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Family Dinner, Henry & Philip bonding, Henry centric, M/M, Medium angst?, Minor Character Death, POV Henry, Sequel, TW: discussion of suicide/suicidal ideation, badly written sex scenes, chapter 3 is basically just fluff, discussions of sperm count, surprise wedding, tw: anxiety attack, tw: panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzyface/pseuds/Izzyface
Summary: Nothing good comes from a phone call in the middle of the night.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: mary, mary, quite contrary [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029432
Comments: 38
Kudos: 161





	1. i. we rule the kingdom (inside my room)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been left slightly blown away by the response to [my first fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714521) for this fandom. And this is a sequel, of sorts, to that. It's set to be 3 parts, and here is part 1. It's not necessary to read that to read this - you'll need it for context in part 3, I believe. 
> 
> It's the holidays, so my beta is out Black Friday shopping. Title is reference to a Taylor Swift song from _reputation_ era.

* * *

**BREAKING:** Palace sources are reporting that Queen Mary III was found unresponsive in her bed this morning and has been rushed to a nearby hospital. (05:38)

 **.@cnnbrk:** CNN can confirm that HRH Queen Mary III has been taken to King Edward VII’s hospital for evaluation. No updates on her condition at this early hour. Story developing… (05:45)

 **.@KEVIIHospital:** At this time we have no comment or update on the status of HRH Queen Mary. We ask for your patience as we do our work. (06:18)

 **.@JKennBBC:** Princess Catherine, Prince Philip & wife, and Princess Beatrice were all spotted at KEVII just now. No updates on QM3’s condition, but for them all together makes the situation seem quite dire. Of course, Prince Henry is currently living in Brooklyn, with FSOTUS, 1/2

 **.@JKennBBC:** and managing a LGBTQ+ foundation. One has to wonder if it all will be worth it should something happen to Queen Mary. #GodSavetheQueen 2/2 (06:35)

 **.@BBCBreaking:** It is with a heavy heart that we must report that Queen Mary Elizabeth Alexandria Mountchristen-Windsor has died after 50 years of service to the United Kingdom. She was 85 years old. More details to come. (09:40)

\---

The phone was ringing. The only person who called at half-two was in bed next to him, snoring. Henry elbowed his boyfriend. “The phone,” he slurred. 

“Huh? What?” Alex’s eyes were still closed as he reached for his cell. “‘S not mine.” The ringing started again. “So tired.” 

Henry fumbled around until he found his cell. It’d been knocked on the floor at some point. “‘Lo?” he mumbled. “Bea? Hold on, yeah?” He sat up in bed and glanced over at Alex. “Love, I’m going to take this in the office, okay?” 

“M’kay. Love you.” Alex reached for Henry’s pillow and pulled it to his face. 

The prince pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and quietly got out of bed. He descended the stairs to their shared space. “Bea, I’m here. What’s happened?” 

“Gran’s dead.” Bea hardly got the words out before she broke down crying again. 

Henry felt his heart painfully constrict. “Shhh,” he soothed her. He walked to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and some tea. He was going to need Alex. His mind was already racing with the things he needed to do. When his sister’s sobs started to slow Henry asked, “What happened?” 

“Massive stroke,” she answered. “One of her attendants found her around 4 a.m. and immediately alerted Mum and the medical staff at Buckingham. She was taken to King Edward’s, but she never regained consciousness.”

“So she just went,” he said. “Just like that?” 

Bea sniffed. “The hospital ran some tests. Mum could’ve opted to keep her on breathing machines and have other machines doing the functions of her organs, but after it came back that there was no brain activity she decided…” she trailed off. 

“I see.” His tea was ready. “I’ll arrange for a flight over later today. I have to consult with Alex.” 

“Do I need to have Mum or Phillip send a plane?” she asked. 

“No, I can charter one if necessary.” Henry exhaled. “I need to go wake Alex and call Shaan. Are you okay?” 

“I will be.” Her voice was still trembling. “Get here soon, okay?” 

“I will,” Henry promised. “Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

First was the call to Shaan. He would know what to do about the plane and would have a better grasp of the situation. Shaan could look at it without emotion, which Henry was incapable of at the moment. 

Zahra answered after two rings. “Someone better be dying considering what time it is.” 

His heart gave that painful squeeze again. “Hello, Ms. Bankston, it’s Henry. I need Shaan.” 

He listened as she prodded her husband awake. “It’s Henry. I think something is wrong.” A moment later, she said, “Ask if you can put it on speaker.” 

Shaan’s calm voice filled Henry’s ear. “Your Highness? Is everything alright?” 

No, no it wasn’t. Henry wasn’t sure if things would ever be alright again. Tears pricked his eyes. “You can put me on speaker, Shaan. Ms. Bankston will need to inform Alex’s mum.” He pulled Alex’s favorite cup down from the cabinet and began the methodical process of making his coffee. He did this most mornings, and he liked to do it. He liked being able to take care of Alex in this way. 

An over-sized mug, filled 7/8 full. One packet of sugar, one packet of cinnamon. Henry wasn’t a coffee drinker (much), but he always sipped it to make sure it tasted right. 

“Your Highness?” Shaan questioned. “Still there?” 

“Right, sorry.” Henry exhaled. “Bea just called. It seems my grandmother has…” he exhaled again. “Died,” his voice cracked. “Right, sorry. That’s the first time I’ve said it outloud.” 

“The Queen has passed?” Shaan questioned. 

“Y—yes.” Henry drained the rest of his tea. He rinsed the leaves out of the bottom and started to make himself a second cup. “I need you to start making arrangements for me to get back to London. Today.” 

“Of course, Sir. And Mr. Claremont-Diaz?” 

“I haven’t spoken to Alex, yet. I needed a moment to process.” His tea was ready. “I’m going upstairs now. I’ll text you to let you know, but I hope he’ll be joining me.” 

“Of course, Sir.” Shaan hesitated. “Your—Henry, I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll be on my way to New York within the hour.” 

“Thank you, Shaan.” 

“So am I,” Zahra offered. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Bankston.” Henry hung up the phone feeling no better and no more in control than before the call, but he knew that if anyone could handle this situation it would be Shaan and Zahra. 

He took the two mugs of hot drinks, and his phone, and started up the stairs towards his and Alex’s shared bedroom. Alex was just as he’d left him, curled up on his stomach, Henry’s pillow pressed to his face. One arm was reaching across the bed, searching for his missing partner in sleep. 

Henry turned the lamp on Alex’s bedside on and sat next to his hip. “Love?” he whispered. He pressed a hand to his shoulder and shook. “Wake up, love.” 

“Ngh,” Alex groaned. “Tired.” 

“I know, but we need to talk.” 

“Henry,” the other man whined. “Sleepy.” 

The prince leaned over and pressed a series of kisses down his back bone. “Wake up, love. It’s important.” Very grudgingly, Alex rolled over. His eyes opened slowly. Henry tried to smile at him. “Hi.” He reached for the cup of coffee he’d made. “I brought you coffee.” 

Alex shifted so he was sitting against the headboard. He took the offered cup and silently took two fortifying sips. “Time is it?” 

“Just after three,” Henry answered. He took Alex’s free hand. “My gran died.” This time when he said it, his voice cracked and the tears he’d been holding back fell. Henry was aware of Alex’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him to his chest. He closed his eyes as he cried and listened as his boyfriend whispered nonsense above him. Henry could feel his heartbeat speed up and his head feel with noise. He wrapped his arms around Alex and clung to him, hoping to stay grounded. He silently focused on the things he was aware of around him. 

He could feel the smoothness of Alex’s t-shirt. It was soft against his cheek. 

He could smell Alex’s soap and his own shampoo. The other man had showered before bed, and just like he’d claimed all those years ago he remained indefinite with his hygiene habits. He washed with Ivory soap and continued to use Henry’s expensive shampoo and conditioner, despite it not being right for his hair type. 

He could taste the salt from his tears on his tongue. As well as the cinnamon from Alex’s coffee.

He could hear the whirl of the furnace. New York was as cold as a witch’s tit in March. 

He could see and not see everything and nothing. For their first anniversary, he had gifted Alex a framed copy of the _Le Monde_ magazine he’d translated that morning in Paris. Alex had hung it in a prized spot in their bedroom. 

“Henry?” 

“Henry?” 

Alex slapped his face lightly. “Baby?” He shook his shoulders. “Hen?” 

“Huh?” Henry focused on Alex’s face. “What’s wrong?” 

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” he answered. “I’m going to grab you some Xanax. Stay here.” 

“Don’t leave,” Henry whimpered. “Stay.” 

“I’m only going to the bathroom.” Alex disentangled himself and vaulted to the bathroom. From his spot on the bed, Henry couldn’t see what he was doing. But he could hear that he was in the medicine cabinet. When he returned, he held out two pills. “Here, take these.” 

“If I take these, I won’t be able—” 

“Take them,” Alex insisted. He took the mug of tea off the nightstand. “I’ll handle everything.” The two men studied each other carefully. “Trust me,” Alex begged. 

Henry reached his hand out for the pills. “With my life.” He swallowed them back and then took a large gulp of tea. 

Alex helped Henry arrange himself in the bed. He sat down in front of him, legs crossed. “What happened?” 

“Bea said it was a stroke? They found her a few hours ago, rushed her to the hospital. Mum was given the option of keeping her on life support, but tests showed that she would never recover.” Henry sighed. “I don’t know if the news has broken yet or not.” He reached for his phone and opened the BBC. “It doesn’t look like.” He focused on just breathing. “Shaan is on his way up. Ms. Bankston knows, so I’m assuming your Mum does as well.” 

Alex nodded. “What do you need me to do?” 

Henry’s laugh was bitter. “Come with me and hold my hand?” 

The other man leaned forward and intertwined their fingers. “I’ll never let go.” With his other hand, Alex opened the calendar on his phone. “I have a few things due this week, but I think I can arrange my schedule. My professors will understand.” 

“If they don’t?” Henry could feel the medications start to work. His heartbeat was slowing and it no longer felt like the walls were closing in. 

Alex shrugged. “Fuck ‘em.” He squeezed Henry’s hand. 

“Alex—” 

“Shhh,” the other man interrupted. He shifted on the bed so that Henry’s head was pillowed against his shoulder. “You said Shaan was on his way?” At Henry’s nod, Alex continued, “Then just rest until he gets here.” 

When Henry woke, his Burberry suitcase was on the foot of the bed, alongside the TUMI hardshell case Alex used for trips abroad. Since they were traveling via private jet neither would have to worry about weight limits. 

Shaan stepped out of their closet, several shirts on hangers in his hand. Henry watched as he carefully folded each one and placed them inside of his case. “Why didn’t anyone wake me? What time is it?” 

“Your Highness,” Shaan answered. “And almost four.”

“Where’s Alex?” 

“On the phone in the kitchen, I believe. Then getting David’s things together.” He glanced over to the travel carrier for the beagle. “Unless I should arrange for a kennel?” 

“No,” Henry answered. “He’s coming with us.” He pushed back the blanket and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. Shaan was still arranging his case when he got to the end of the bed. “Thank you, Shaan.” 

“No need for thanks, Sir. Just doing my job.” The older man looked at the prince. “And let me say again, I am very sorry for your loss, Henry.” 

The prince nodded. He knew it was because of the benzodiazepines in his system that he wasn’t falling apart right now. “I’m going to shower, then we can pack up the toiletries.” 

“I have extras,” Shaan answered. “No need to bring those.” He held up an already packed travel case. “I have some for Mr. Claremont-Diaz, as well.” 

“Thank you, Shaan.” Henry disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned the shower to as hot as he could stand and then stepped under. Instead of cleaning himself, Henry just stood and let the water fall over him. 

His gran was dead. 

His gran was dead and he felt… complicated. 

The part of her that was a grandson was devastated. When he was younger, when his father was alive, she’d been fun. There’d been times when they baked cookies or pulled crackers at Christmas. She’d enjoyed going out in the snow at Balmoral when they’d make angels, or taking them out shooting for pheasants, or late nights by the fire when she’d read them the story of Father Christmas. 

Those memories were irreplaceable. 

But the memories Henry had of her since his father’s death were different. Uglier. How she expected him to put aside _who he was_ for the good of England… Henry didn’t know how to forgive that. 

The bathroom door opened and Alex stepped inside. “Hen? Everything okay?” 

“Yes.” Henry reached for his body wash and sponge. “Shaan said you were on the phone.” 

“With my mom.” He sat down on the toilet. “She offered a jet, but I told her Shaan had figured it out. She sends her condolences.” 

“Hmmm.” Henry couldn’t stand the silence right now. “What time is the plane?” 

“We’re flying out of Newark at 5:30.” 

“Newark?” he repeated. “Why not JFK or La Guardia?” 

“They couldn't accommodate us,” Alex answered. “And I’m sure Shaan pulled the English Prince card.” 

“Can we even make it to Newark by 5:30? Shaan told me it was already after 4.” He squirted shampoo into his hand and started to scrub his hair. His brain was still fuzzy. 

“Baby, the plane isn’t going to leave until you get there, so don’t worry.” He pulled the shower curtain back and watched his boyfriend under the spray. Henry smirked at him. “There’s no time for that, now. Besides, Shaan is next door.” 

“Shaan has heard much worse, I assure you.” Henry wrinkled his nose. “Is Cash coming with us?” 

“Yes. He’s downstairs, reviewing security with the team that will be left behind.” Alex held out a towel to his boyfriend. “All finished?” 

Henry stepped out of the shower, towel around his waist. He leaned down, his hands on Alex’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you.” 

Alex kissed him back, both lips around his bottom one. He sucked it into his mouth. His hands smoothed over Henry’s ass, above the towel, and squeezed his cheeks. Henry swallowed a groan. “I love you, too.” 

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Sirs?” Shaan called. “Henry, is Mr. Claremont-Diaz in there with you?” 

“Here,” Alex answered. He released Henry. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” he whispered. Alex pressed one more kiss to Henry’s lips before he opened the bathroom door. “Yes, Shaan?” 

If Shaan was shocked to see them together, he didn’t show it. “Good, sir. I’ve pulled an assortment of clothes for you to look over and pack. I have enough for a week, but if that’s not enough then we’ll arrange for a shopper to visit a store in London for you.” 

“He won’t need a suit for the funeral,” Henry added. “There are five or six formal suits in my closet at Kensington. One of them should work.” He didn’t notice the look Alex and Shaan exchanged. “It might not be a terrible idea to just get some everyday clothes—jumpers, t-shirts, jeans, that sort of thing to keep at Kensington for him. Maybe just send the same shopper out as before?” 

“Henry,” Alex protested. 

“That’s a good idea, Sir,” Shaan agreed. “I’ll get someone on that when we get there.” He gestured to a set of clothes on the bed. “I left these out for the plane trip, and then you can change before we arrive.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re meeting our helicopter in 25 minutes at TSS. I’ll be downstairs with Cash.”

The door was closed before Henry could ask, “Helicopter?” 

“To Newark,” Alex answered. He was sorting his clothes on the bed, most of them going into his rapidly filling case. “So you think it’ll be a week?” 

Henry dropped the towel and reached for his boxers. “A week?” 

“That we’ll be in London?” He watched Henry pull joggers over his boxers. “So I know what to tell my professors.” 

“Oh, hmmm.” The blond frowned. “Likely longer.” Henry noticed the look on Alex’s face. “Maybe you should stay? At least till your spring break in two weeks.” 

“What? Hen.” Alex walked around the end of the bed. “I’m not waiting two weeks to come when you need me now.” 

“I’ll be fine.” He looked down at his feet. “I won’t let you flunk out—” 

“Fuck law school,” Alex interrupted. He lifted Henry’s head so that he could see his eyes. “Look at me, baby. And listen to me. Law school is important, yes. Working for the good of others is important, yes. Being a politician by the time I’m 30 is important, yes. But nothing— _nothing_ —is more important to me than you. I love you, you idiot. You’re my first thought each morning and last thought when I fall asleep. I want to spend my life with you, forever. One thousand percent, remember?” 

“Bloody wanker,” Henry sniffed. He pulled his boyfriend into a hug and pressed a kiss to his neck. “One thousand percent.” 

No more words were necessary as they finished getting ready. Alex piled all the clothes Shaan had chosen into his case and barely remembered to grab his toothbrush at the last minute. His bookbag was stuffed with all of his law books and his messenger bag had his laptop, iPad, and all the required chargers. 

When they left the brownstone that morning, it was dark and cold. Both boys were dressed in casual wear under parkas. Henry held David’s carrier in his right hand and his fingers were entwined with Alex’s on his left. Both guest rooms were already occupied by Secret Service agents who would keep the house occupied for the duration of their time in England. 

Henry tried to keep looking ahead, aware that his future was changing with each step that he took. As their helicopter was taking off for Newark, the rest of the world was being informed of Queen Mary’s death. By the time their plane landed in London, Henry’s life would be well on it’s way to upside down. 


	2. ii. you are the one (i have been waiting for)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Alex arrive in London and meet with the rest of Henry's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things, this is the chapter that earns the "M" rating - and I really tried to keep it at M and not E. I don't consider writing M/E scenes to be a strength of mine, so I hope it turned out alright? 
> 
> Second, while I researched the hell out of the third part of this story (you'll see when that is posted) some of this here I just decided to wing it. Not the stuff about Phillip... that's actually a real medical condition, but other stuff. 
> 
> And last, thanks to all of you have been so generous with your comments and encouragement. They were so helpful as I was finishing my little story up yesterday. I need to have some distance from the third part, and then a good look over it, then I'll get it up. <3

* * *

There was a black town car waiting for them at the airport. It drove them straight to King Edward VII’s Hospital where his mother and Bea had agreed to meet them. They’d all had the opportunity to say goodbye to Gran before the doctors turned off the machines, but Henry hadn’t yet. He still very much wanted to. 

After exchanging a round of hugs with everyone in the private family room, Henry went in alone. Alex offered, but Henry knew he needed to do it himself. The lights were dimmed. She was in her favorite dressing gown, with a white hospital sheet pulled up to her neck. Her arms were resting over her chest. A chenille blanket was folded over her legs. 

“Hullo, Gran.” Henry rolled the doctor’s stool next to her bed. He took the hand closest to him. It was cool to the touch. “I never thought this day would actually come.” 

He laughed, humorlessly. “When I was little I thought you were invincible. I thought nothing could touch you. It was this armor you pulled around yourself. When I asked you about it, you told me you learned it from your father. I used to be jealous. 

“And then Da died, and you carried on as if nothing had changed… and you taught Pip to carry on as if nothing had changed, and I hated you for it. I know Da wasn’t your son, but he was _like_ your son. But it just seemed like you felt nothing when suddenly my whole world was falling apart, and I didn’t understand.” Henry sniffed. “And worst of all, you showed my brother who I adored how to feel nothing too. Why would you do that?” 

Henry looked down at their hands. “I know you don’t approve of me. You’ve made that abundantly clear. But in the last several years, I realized I don’t need your approval. I needed your love. I didn’t need you to be _my Queen_ , I needed you to be my Gran. 

“I couldn’t give a damn about the legacy, if you must know.” He ran his fingers over her cold, smooth skin. “I know I’ve been a disappointment to you, but you should know you’ve been a disappointment to me, too.” 

There was a knock on the door and a second later Alex’s head poked inside. “Do you mind if I come in?” Henry nodded. The other man stopped beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How you holding up?” 

“I’m almost finished here.” 

“Do you mind if I say something?” Alex asked.

  
“Go ahead.” 

Alex crossed himself, kissed his fingers and laid them against the Queen’s hand. “I know you never cared for me, Your Majesty. But some of the people I love have loved you. So I pray that you might one day be reunited in One family to sing praises unto You. Amen.”

Henry laid his head against Alex’s upper arm. “Thank you.” 

The two of them rejoined the others in the private room about twenty minutes later. Philip and Martha were waiting at Kensington for them. Catherine had sent attendants ahead to St. James Place and Kensington to start getting things sorted. The whole family would be staying at Kensington until after the funeral and will reading. It was for the best. 

Things were quiet on the car drive back to the Palace. Crowds were already beginning to gather outside of Buckingham Palace to show their respect and mourn together. Mary would have officially celebrated her Golden Jubilee in July. She’d outlived her husband, two younger sisters, one child, and one son-in-law. She’d served the United Kingdom through the tenure of 10-plus Prime Ministers. She’d seen the rise of the Labour party, the Tory party, and political upstarts who thought they could outmaneuver her. Only to pass quietly in her sleep. 

Martha was waiting for them on the front steps of Kensington. She stepped forward and wrapped Catherine in a hug and then moved on to Bea. Henry noticed that she hesitated slightly when she got to him, but shook it off. “Martha,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” His sister-in-law had been fond of their grandmother. 

“Me too,” she whispered. Martha stepped back and looked at Alex. “Hullo, Alex.” 

“Martha. It’s nice to see you.” 

Her smile was reserved. “You too.” 

David came running out the front doors, Philip right behind him. The dog stopped in front of Alex who bent over to pick him up. Henry smiled and went to greet his brother. “Pip.” 

“Haz.” The older man pulled him into a hug. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course I came.” Henry stepped backwards. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He studied his brother’s face. “You know that, right?” 

“Right,” Philip answered. He shook his head. “A car delivered your things earlier. I had them sent up to your rooms.” He looked past Henry. “Alex, mate, how are you?” 

Henry studied his brother. Something was wrong. Something beyond the obvious. Something he wasn’t sharing yet. He glanced over at Martha. Whatever it was, she obviously knew. 

The group walked into the front hall together. Henry wanted to get upstairs to talk with Bea and Alex in private, but didn’t want to appear rude. “Right,” his Mum started, “We have a lot to talk about, but I’m sure the boys would like to rest up a bit.” She glanced down at her watch. “I’ve arranged for dinner at half seven, and we can talk then.” She looked around at them all. “There are things we need to discuss. Important things.” 

Henry looked down at his phone. It was 4:38 p.m., which would allow them some time. He felt Alex’s fingers wrap around his. “Okay, Mum.” The rest of them agreed readily. 

He led Alex upstairs to his rooms, David following behind. When the door closed behind them, Henry wrapped both arms around his boyfriend and breathed him in. Alex always smelled of soap and spices and something else that was uniquely him. “Thank you for being here to hold me together.” 

Alex pressed a kiss to his neck. “You’re stronger than you realize, H.” He walked them over to the bed and sat Henry down. Alex busied himself by loosening Henry’s trainers and pulling off his socks, then joggers. He pulled back the duvet and tucked him inside. David scrambled on to the bed next to him. “Do you want anything? Jaffa cakes? Tea?” 

Henry patted the bed. “Just you, here, next to me.” 

“One sec.” Alex grabbed his iPad and his laptop and put them on the bed. “Hook that up to the VPN, will you?” He slipped his own shoes and pants off. By the time he was under the covers, Henry had pulled up an episode of Bake-Off. Alex reached for his laptop and powered it up. “Going to see if any of my professors wrote me back.” 

“Okay, love.” 

The prince was aware that his boyfriend was concentrating on his laptop, but he was trying to give him some privacy. He wasn’t sure, but Henry assumed Alex was likely in a precarious position by flying to England mid-week before midterms. Even if he was in an _official courtship_ with the Queen’s grandson. 

Alex was in his second semester of 2L at NYU Law. Henry saw first hand how hard he worked. He saw the books scattered around their brownstone, the bits of case studies he stuck under the cushions of their sofa and mattress, and the highlighted notes he left all over the house. More than anything, he saw the pressure Alex put on himself.

He’d heard the stories from June (and some from Alex himself) about what a perfectionist he could be when it came to school. He could still remember the helpless feeling he had when Alex confessed to stealing Liam’s Adderall in order to stay awake two or three days in a row. Or how now he would drink ten to twelve cups of coffee in order to keep himself going and Henry would have to beg him to go to bed. 

“Fuck,” Alex muttered. He closed the laptop and pushed it away. “I’m going to go raid your kitchen for snacks. I know they stocked you up with Jaffa Cakes.” 

“You don’t even like them,” Henry accused. 

“I’m hungry and my body doesn’t know what time it is,” he answered. He leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Love you. Want me to bring you some?” 

“Please?” Henry laid his head back against the bed and adjusted the iPad. As soon as he heard the swinging door to the kitchen, he double-clicked out of Netflix and into Alex’s NYU email account. It took a minute for new mail to load. The last one was from **Dr. J. Davis** and was already loaded in the window. 

> **Dr. J. Davis** < [ jdavis@nyu.edu ](mailto:jdavis@nyu.edu)>
> 
> 3/18/22 11:07 AM
> 
> **Re:** Death in the family
> 
> Mr. Claremont-Diaz, 
> 
> I find myself with sympathy for your personal situation, but I’m afraid I cannot accommodate your request. I will excuse your absence for Thursday’s seminar, but if you are not able to present your midterm and respond to questions from your peers on Monday afternoon, I’ll have no choice but to give you a failing grade. 
> 
> I understand this is a very unique situation, Alex. I wish I could do more to help. 
> 
> J. Davis 

The email below it from **Dr. S. Linus** had much the same message. 

Henry clicked over to Alex’s sent mail and read the message he had sent this morning. 

> <[ jdavis@nyu.edu ](mailto:jdavis@nyu.edu) >, < [ slinus@nyu.edu ](mailto:slinus@nyu.edu) >, < [ bcohen@nyu.edu ](mailto:bcohen@nyu.edu)>
> 
> cc: <[ privers@nyu.edu ](mailto:privers@nyu.edu)>
> 
> 3/18/22 6:34 AM 
> 
> **Subject:** Death in the family 
> 
> Professors Davis, Linus, and Cohen, and Mr. Rivers, 
> 
> I am not certain if you’ve seen the news yet or not, but Queen Mary III passed away early this morning in London. Due to my personal relationship with her grandson, Henry, I am on my way to the hospital and then Buckingham Palace to be with his family. I know the timing is not ideal with midterms next week. I am writing to see what (if any) arrangements can be made? 
> 
> I’ll be able to submit my research paper for Dr. Cohen by the due date next Wednesday, so long as he will accept it electronically. However, my other two midterm assignments are a class presentation and a partner project. At the moment, I do not know how long I’ll be in the UK, but it’s highly unlikely I’ll be back by next week. Please advise. 
> 
> Respectfully, 
> 
> Alex Claremont-Diaz 

“Are you reading my email?” Alex asked. 

Henry felt heat bloom across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. “You caught me.” He closed out of the program. “Sorry.” Henry forced himself to look up. “Are you going back?” 

Alex tossed him an unopened pack of Jaffa Cakes. “No. Why do you ask?” 

“I saw the one from Dr. Davis that said—”

“I know what it said,” he interrupted. Alex sat down on the bed and pulled open a bag of crisps. He’d also brought them both bottles of water. “I’ve reached out to my advisor and when I hear back, then I’ll know something more concrete. It’s all speculative at this point.” 

“What’s speculative?” the prince asked. “Alex.” 

“Hmmm?” 

“Talk to me,” Henry pleaded. “What’s speculative?” 

Alex sighed. “Worst case scenario, I have to take an incomplete in one or more classes.” 

“Do you think it might come to that?” When his boyfriend shrugged, Henry tried again. “Answer me.” 

“Maybe, okay? Possibly.” Alex pressed his forehead to Henry’s shoulder. “It’s not like I can crib notes off of someone else or send an agent in to record lectures for me, okay? I have to be there. Even if I could keep up with the work, there are attendance policies that count as a percentage of my grade. People are competing right now for internships, but I’m not.” 

“You could be.” 

“I’m not,” he repeated. “Will you fucking stop trying to push me away? Damn, how many times am I going to have to fly across the ocean for you?” 

“Sorry,” Henry whispered. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Alex responded. “Just stop trying to push me out of your life.” 

“Okay,” he agreed. Henry turned his head and kissed Alex. He pulled the weight of him down on top of him, his mouth opening to welcome his tongue. Alex greedily explored his mouth, his tongue tracing along his teeth before he sucked Henry’s tongue into his own mouth. 

When they broke for air, Alex pressed kisses to his cheeks and eyelids. He kissed over to his ear and took it between his teeth. “I love you so fucking much.” He kissed down his neck, his teeth scraping along the tendon. Henry felt himself harden and he bucked against Alex, searching for any kind of friction. “Nuh-uh.” His t-shirt got pushed up and off and Henry writhed as Alex took his nipples in his mouth, tasting him. He dragged those fucking eyelashes all over his chest as he moved down towards his boxers. 

Henry helped kick his boxers off and finally, finally Alex wrapped a hand around him. Through hooded eyes, Henry watched him lick his palm and start to stroke him. “Want to touch you,” he gasped. 

“This is about you, baby,” Alex answered. He opened his mouth and lowered his head. 

Henry couldn’t keep his eyes open. He was lost in the sensation. Up and down. Up and down. His mouth was so warm and wet. Henry bucked his hips, hoping to get closer and it brought a laugh out of Alex. “Fucking wanker,” Henry accused, which caused Alex to close his mouth and attempt to pull his orgasm out of him. Alex rubbed lightly against his perineum and Henry was lost, his balls exploding.

When he came back to himself, Alex was laying on his side with his hand in his boxers, watching Henry’s face. “You’re beautiful when you come. I know I’ve told you that before.” 

Henry turned so that he was laying on his side and lifted his leg over Alex’s hip. He pushed his boxers down and took over for his hand. He pressed an open-mouth kiss to his mouth. “You’re beautiful all the time, love. Both inside and out. And I love you, even though I’m certain I don’t let you know nearly enough.” 

“You do,” Alex disagreed. He shifted his hips. “A little tighter, please.” 

Henry complied and added a wrist twist at the end. “I don’t know how I would be doing this if you weren’t here with me.” Tug and twist. “I’m certain I’d be falling apart.” Tug and twist. “And I just want you to know, that tonight, when we have the time, I want you to fuck me.” 

“Yeah?” Alex’s eyes were clouded with lust. “Do you like it when I fuck you, baby?” 

His pulls were harder now. Alex was close. “I do. I like when you come inside of me. I like how I can still feel you for hours afterwards. And I like when you get me ready to be fucked. Your fingers and tongue inside of me.” 

“Oh God, Hen—” Alex let loose a string of curse words as ejaculate erupted from his cock. Henry pointed it down so it coated both of their bodies. He surged forward for a kiss, one arm locked around Alex’s neck as the younger man came down from his high. 

Both men were giggly and soft when they finished. Henry was the one who looked over at the clock to check the time. “We’re expected at dinner in 90 minutes. We should shower.” 

“Together?” Alex asked. 

“It will help conserve water,” the prince agreed. 

They were the last to arrive in the room outside the dining hall. Everyone else was standing together stiffly, whispering together, when Henry and Alex entered holding hands. “There you are,” huffed Philip. He reached for his wife’s hand. 

“Sorry?” offered Alex. “My fault. Jet lag.” The two boys broke off into laughter. 

“You’re here now, so we can go in.” Catherine pressed a kiss to Henry’s forehead, and then Alex’s. “It’s so good to see you both.” 

“Mum,” Henry complained. He knew the tips of his ears were red again. “Is it just us?” 

“Yes, dear.” Catherine nodded at the attendant. “Shaan asked for the evening off and after I assured Alex’s guard that we would call if you were going anywhere tonight, he went with Shaan.” 

“Cash probably left me a message then.” Alex patted his pants. “I left my phone upstairs.” 

“It’s fine, you won’t need it.” Henry took his hand and led him into the dining room. The table was set for just the family. Catherine sat at one end with Bea on her left and Henry took the seat on her right. Philip took the other end seat, with Martha on his right. Alex took the remaining seat between Henry and Philip. When Catherine nodded, the food was brought in and placed in silver dishes along the table. 

“Alex, Henry has told me multiple times that you like ethnic and spicy foods, so I thought we might try some Indian take away. I placed multiple orders of Chicken Tikka Masala, Butter Chicken, and Vindaloo. Plus naan, samosas, and rice. I ordered different levels of spice because some members of our family don’t care for it.” Catherine pursed her lips in amusement and looked down the table at her oldest child. 

“It’s me,” Philip answered. “She’s talking about me.” 

“We know, Pip,” Bea laughed. She reached for the bowl of rice. “Alex, how is school going?” 

“Good,” he took the rice from her. “Which one is the spiciest?” An attendant stepped forward and pointed it out. “Oh, thank you.” He spooned Chicken Tikka Masala on his rice and reached for some naan. 

Henry served himself some rice and Butter Chicken along with some samosas. As he ate, he noticed that dinner conversation was cordial, if a little stilted. There was obviously something not being said by his Mum or Philip, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment yet. Martha wasn’t being as standoffish as usual, which he appreciated. She’d held a grudge about ruining her wedding (and wedding cake) against them for a long time, but in the last year it seemed that she’d started to accept that Alex was going to be a permanent part of their family. It also helped that the rift between him and Philip was healing. While things may never be like they were before, they were _better_. 

Once dessert was brought out (vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce), Bea finally asked, “Does anyone want to tell us what’s going on?” She motioned between their Mum and Philip. “It’s clear you two know something that the rest of us don’t. Is it something about Gran? Her will? Can you just tell us?” 

Henry mouthed _thank you_ to his sister. That took more guts than he had. 

Catherine cleared her throat. “I guess I should’ve known you’d pick up on the tension. Bloody perceptive children.” She smiled at them all. “The will won’t be read for another month, but in it Mum is going to name Philip as her successor to the throne.” It was quiet, and then the table exploded with sound. Henry and Bea protested on Catherine’s behalf, arguing that she couldn’t do that; that it wasn’t fair. “Children,” their Mum interrupted. “Let me finish, please?” 

She looked around the table at everyone. “I discussed this with Mum before she died, and it was what she wanted. To be honest, it’s what I want too. I’m 61 years old, much too old to take on a new role.” Catherine looked down at Philip. “It’s Pip’s turn to lead this family.” 

“Thank you, Mum.” Philip reached for Martha’s hand. “But we have some news, too.” He looked at his siblings. “And it affects the two of you.” 

“Pip—” Henry tried. 

“Mazzy and I can’t have children,” he rushed on. His face was stoic, but his eyes were shiny. “It’s funny, I never realized I wanted the little monsters until the doctor told me I couldn’t have them for sure.” 

There was no explosion of sound following this announcement, only quiet as they each processed the news. 

“It’s not Mazzy,” Philip told them. “She’s perfect.” His cheeks colored. “I, uh, have a condition called azoospermia. It means that—” 

“You’re shooting blanks,” Alex answered. “So to speak.” 

“Yes, thank you, Alex.” Philip laughed. “So my equipment works, there’s just… We didn’t think to have anything checked until after we tried and tried and she never got pregnant.” He squeezed Martha’s hand again. “So while I’ll gladly take over, I need an heir.” His eyes landed on Henry. “Currently, that’s you.” 

“Right.” Henry suddenly wished he’d taken the pill Alex had offered him before dinner. “But I don’t want to be King.” 

“I know, darling,” his Mother answered. “But what of one of your children?” She looked between him and Alex. “You’re still planning to have them, right?” 

“Yes, _someday_ ,” Henry answered. “Not bloody tomorrow!” He looked over at Bea. “What about Bea? Aren’t her potential children in line, too?” 

She glared at him, her eyes whispering _how dare you bring me into this_. 

“Yes, of course,” Philip answered. “Technically Bea is your heir. So if you and Henry don’t reproduce, then the line will fall to Bea, and if she doesn’t, then—” 

“To who?” Alex asked. “I’m sure there’s a whole line of succession figured out, down to like 200 places.” 

Philip nodded. “Of course there is, but it’s more like 20 places, and then it falls to Parliament. After Bea is Cousin Wilhelm.” 

“Whose father and grandfather supported Mussolini, as Great Uncle Edward was aligned with Hitler. Cousin Wilhelm is… problematic,” Henry answered. He glanced at Alex. “We need to discuss this in private.” 

“Henry,” Philip answered. “They’ll need to be _your_ children.” He glanced between Henry and his boyfriend. “I have no idea what the two of you have discussed in regards to children, but I want you to understand that. The royal line has to descend from you.” 

“I know,” he nodded. Henry hummed when Alex’s hand slipped inside of his. “What about you and Martha? Is this going to change your plans for children?” 

“H, I can’t bloody have them.” 

“That’s not what I mean, Pip.” He smiled sadly at his brother. “There are thousands of kids out there who need a mother and father. They would be lucky to have you and Martha. If I’ve learned nothing else working in my shelter and with Pez it’s that we’re bloody lucky growing up like we did. I’m not saying you have to put them in the succession plan. But you can still change their life.”

“I hadn’t considered that.” He glanced at his wife. “That’s something we’ll need to discuss in private.” 

After dinner and drinks, they were back in Henry’s bedroom. He watched as Alex moved around quietly. “What are you thinking?” 

“Are we moving to England?” Alex asked. 

“I don’t know.” Henry glanced down at the iPad he’d looked through earlier. He wondered if Alex had received any more emails from his professors. “Would you move to England?” 

First, “I don’t know.” Then, “Yes.” He sat down in Henry’s desk chair, his body turned so he was facing him. “Maybe it makes me a coward, but I don’t want to go back to being long distance. The very thought of it gives me an ulcer. The longest we’ve been apart since we moved in together in Brooklyn was five weeks, and that felt like an eternity. So, yes, if you thought you were going to move back here permanently I would come.” 

“What about law school?” 

Alex shrugged. “I’m sure there are universities with law programs in London.” A pause. “Could I even work here? I mean, assuming…” His face colored. “Doesn’t the _Duchess of Cambridge_ , or whatever, usually just pick a charity or whatever and that’s the work they do?” 

“Not NYU. As for the other? Yes, traditionally, your job would be to a member of the Royal Family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work, particularly if you’re doing pro-bono legal work based on civil rights and other things of that nature, which is what I know you’re interested in.” 

“Hmmm.” Alex considered what his boyfriend had said and nodded. “I picked NYU because you were going to be in New York, baby. Not because it held some special meaning to me.” 

Henry smiled. “And the heir thing? What do you think about that?” 

“It’s not as weird as you think? I’ve always assumed we’d have kids. I think you know that. We’re both still young, so I hope they don’t expect we’re going to be popping them out soon. But in five or ten years? Yeah, sure.” He leaned forward and touched Henry’s ankle. “I just want us to be _us_ first.” 

“You won’t mind that I have to be the biological father?” 

“No, why would I?” Alex questioned. “I thought maybe we could ask June if she would donate an egg? Or eggs? At first I thought maybe asking if she’d be willing to be the biological mother _and surrogate_ , but then I thought it would be better if we just hired someone for that.” 

“I hadn’t considered that,” Henry admitted. “That way he or she is part of us both.” 

“Oh, that is something.” The blond raised an eyebrow. “If we have a girl first, no skipping over her in the line of succession. Girls are just as badass as boys, probably even more so honestly, and there’s no reason for them to be skipped over because of a penis.” 

“I agree.” Henry leaned forward and pressed his palm to Alex’s. “One more thing, though.” 

“What’s that?” 

Henry pressed a kiss to his lips. “I want to marry you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. What do you say?” 

“One thousand percent, yes.” 

* * *

ETA: I made some tiny edits after I initially posted this, but nothing that changed the chapter in any major ways. Just some suggestions from my beta, Missy. <3 -IF


	3. say you fancy me (not fancy stuff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me a happy story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI - there is a small allusion to suicidal ideation in this chapter. Please be aware if that is an issue for you.

* * *

Henry mindlessly flipped through the real estate portfolio Shaan had provided him, but none of the existing Royal properties said _home_ to him. He and Alex had already chosen a 20 room apartment that would serve as their _official_ residence at Kensington Palace, and it would need some upgrades, but neither of them wanted to live there full time. 

He paused on the description of Anmer Hall. Since Philip and Martha were moving to Buckingham Palace, it would be vacant… but no. Henry didn’t want that, either. 

Frogmore Cottage? Hmm, a possibility. But it would need extensive renovations. And the commute would be a lot. 

Windsor Castle? No. It was ostentatious and a… castle. 

St. James Place wasn’t a terrible option, except his Mum lived there. Henry did _not_ want to live with his Mum. 

Highgrove House was a nice option, but it was a little far out. Ideally, he’d like to be within an hours commute of London. 

“Whatcha doing?” Alex asked. 

Henry jumped. “Christ, you scared me.” He slid the portfolio towards his fiancé. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

“So you decided to look at real estate at 4 a.m.? On the day of our wedding?” Alex laughed. “Are you having second thoughts?” 

“Absolutely not.” He reached for his tea, which had gone cold. “Just couldn’t sleep. Too… wired, I guess.” 

Alex pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I get it, baby.” He pulled the portfolio towards him. “So are these options, then? Do you have a favorite?” 

“Not really. They’re all very stuffy and formal and not us, if you must know. The only one I could see us in is Frogmore, which is in bloody Berkshire, and it’s fallen into disrepair. With the money we’re spending to redo the apartments here, it would feel indulgent to renovate a second house we’ll only be at on weekends and some years in the future when we have children.” Henry stifled a yawn. “I guess we could sell the house in Brooklyn and we’d have the money.”

“Hmmm.” Alex continued to flip through the pictures. “We’re not selling the house in Brooklyn.” 

“Love—” 

“We’ve discussed this, Hen. We both love that house. It was our first home. For now, Nora and June have expressed an interest in moving in, so let’s let them. After that, we can consider gifting it to the foundation, unless you’re planning to close down the Brooklyn shelter, too?” 

“What?” Henry frowned. “Of course not!” 

“Then let’s table any talk of selling the Brooklyn house, okay? I love that house.” Alex pulled four sheets from the folder. “These are my favorites.” He pressed a kiss to Henry’s cheek. “I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee and check on everyone else.” 

His boyfriend reached for his hand to stop him. “Are you ready for today?” 

“Baby, I’ve been ready to marry you since the first time I tried to tell you I loved you, and you ducked under water and resurfaced screaming about a bloody plague.” Alex smiled. “That’s how sure I am.” 

“Cheeky bint.” 

“That’s His Royal Highness Cheeky Bint, Henry.” Alex leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Love you.” 

“Love you,” Henry responded. He watched as Alex left and then picked up the papers he’d pulled out. 

Frogmore Cottage. Clarence House. Ivy Cottage. Thatched House Lodge. 

There were some there that Henry hadn’t considered, primarily because they’d been occupied for decades. But he realized he wasn’t above throwing his title around and making people move if he had to. 

\---

Several hours later, they were waiting for the official from the local registry office to arrive. It was the last day the Super Six would be together and they’d planned a small ceremony in one of the ball rooms. Shaan had gone down and arranged everything at the registry office, as well as had everyone there sign NDAs. A special license was secured to waive the 28 day, public notice waiting period. 

Henry and Alex had opted for a civil marriage, for now. It was likely there would be a big production some time in the future (once they were more settled), but the important thing to the both of them was that they were married. 

Bea, June, and Pez decorated the ball room for the ceremony. Alex had asked Nora to stand up for him, and Henry had asked Pez. June and Bea were going to be their witnesses (at least two were required). Shaan, Cash, and Amy were also in attendance. 

The registrar was a short woman who reminded Henry of Dolores Umbridge from the _Harry Potter_ films. Her suit wasn’t quite the same shade of pink, but it was close. “Sorry, loves, but traffic was a nightmare.” She smiled at the gathered group. “Right, who are my grooms?” 

Henry was a bit taken back that a citizen of the UK didn’t recognize one of their princes, but he didn’t let it bother him. He’d been out of the country for the better part of two years. “I’m Henry.” 

“And Alex,” the other man spoke up. “We’re the ones getting married.” 

“Excellent. I’m Edna. I’ll be the one doing the marrying.” She opened her carrying case and started shifting through her papers. “It seems that all is in order here. Your special license, the family visa form for Alex, your notice of civil partnership, receipt of fees paid.” She looked up. “Do you have your passports and proof of residence?” Shaan stepped forward and handed over the requested documents. “Lovely.” Her eyes glanced over Shaan. “Lovely.” 

Henry heard Alex snigger beside him. 

“And do we need to handle any name changes today?” 

The two men exchanged glances. This was something they’d struggled with. Alex was very attached to his last names and didn’t want to lose any of them, and while Henry didn’t care for Mountchristen-Windsor it was _his._ “If we opt to do that at a later time, would we just need to visit a registry office?” 

“Yes, dear,” Edna answered. “Any registry office in the Commonwealth will be able to do it for you.” 

“Then, no,” Henry answered. “No name changes today.” 

“Alright, then I believe we’re ready.” She looked around at the group. “Is this everyone?” 

“Yes,” Alex answered. “These are our people.” 

“I see.” She smiled at them. “Well, places then.” Edna pulled a small book from her case and opened it to a marked page. “If you’re ready, then I’ll begin.” 

“Henry—” The door opened and Philip appeared. “Have you—” He looked up. “What’s going on?” He closed the door behind him. “Are you lot _getting married_?” The last words were whispered. 

“Yes,” answered Henry. He reached for Alex’s hand. “What do you want, Pip?” 

Philip took in the scene and the people standing around, Henry and all of his friends. His eyes lingered on Pez standing next to his younger brother. “Were you… Am I not invited?” 

“Pip,” Henry sighed. They did not have time for this. “June and Nora have to be back in D.C. tonight, so we need to get on with it.” 

“Can I stay?” Philip asked. “Do you mind?” 

Henry looked at Alex, who shrugged. “I guess, if you want.” 

His older brother smiled. “Thanks.” He held up one hand. “Let me get Mazzy. She’s just in the sitting room!” Before anyone could protest he was out the door again. 

“I can’t believe I’m marrying into this family,” Alex snickered. “All of you are such drama queens.” 

“You still have time to back out,” Pez told him. 

“Shut it,” Henry warned, his tone authoritative. “No one is backing out.” The door opened again and Philip came in, Martha’s hand clenched in his. She smiled at Henry apologetically. They took their place beside Bea. 

“Ready, then?” Edna asked. 

“Yes,” they agreed. 

“Good morning, it’s lovely to be here with all of you as Henry and Alex start their life together. I’m honored to have been chosen as you begin this new phase of your journey. As for your family and friends, I feel blessed that you all are here to witness what Henry and Alex mean to each other in terms of love and friendship, so that when times get hard and the path gets rocky, you can remind them of what this day meant.

“There is no one here to present either groom, and you are both of legal age entering into this contract of sound mind. Marriage is an agreement between two people to share their lives and experiences with each other, and the willingness to accept each other for who they are. All of the good and bad parts. It’s making a commitment of friendship and respect, and it calls for honesty, courage, patience, and above all humor. Marriage is where each partner is expected to support the other in all that they do, and it requires a careful balancing act of closeness and distance—two people who continue to grow closer as time goes by, but two people who continue to grow as individuals in that time too. Above all, marriage is two best friends who have decided they want to spend their lives together, side by side, every day. 

“I am legally required to tell you all that this room has been legally sanctioned according to the law for the celebration of marriages. You are here to witness the marriage of Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor and Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz. If any of you present knows why these two should not be joined in marriage, you should declare it now.” 

Henry pursed his lips to stifle a laugh when Alex glared at their guests. “Stop,” he mouthed. 

“Henry, please repeat after me: I do solemnly declare that I know not any lawful impediment why I, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, may not be joined in matrimony to Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz.” 

He squeezed Alex’s hands. “I do solemnly declare that I know not any lawful impediment why I, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor may not be joined in matrimony to Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz.” Henry loosened one hand and reached up to swipe at his eyes. He knew he’d feel emotional, but he wasn’t prepared for anything like _this_. 

“Alexander, repeat after me: I do solemnly declare that I know not any lawful impediment why I, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, may not be joined in matrimony to Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.” 

“I do solemnly declare that I know not any lawful impediment why I, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, may not be joined in matrimony to Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.” Alex’s smile lit up his whole face. He turned his hands so their fingers interlaced. 

Edna cleared her throat. “Now the moment has come for Henry and Alexander to contract their marriage in front of you, their friends and families. This is a solemn moment. So I ask that you each step closer and join together in the celebration of their marriage.” The witnesses all stepped closer. “Thank you. 

“Henry, will you take Alex to be your husband, to share your life with him, to support him, and comfort him, no matter what the future may bring?” 

“I will.” 

The registrar looked up. “Henry, please repeat after me: I call upon the witnesses here that I, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, do take thee, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz as my lawfully wedded husband.” 

The prince smiled. “I call upon the witnesses here that I, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, do take thee, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, as my lawfully wedded husband.” 

“Ridiculous prince with four ridiculous names,” Alex groused. “Can’t believe I’m marrying you.” 

“Shush, you wanker,” Henry warned. “I won’t have you ruin my wedding.” 

Edna cleared her throat. “Alex, will you take Henry to be your husband, to share your life with him, to support him, and comfort him, no matter what the future may bring?” 

“I will.” 

“Then repeat after me, I call upon the witnesses here that I, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, do take thee, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, as my lawfully wedded husband.” 

“I guess,” he sighed. The other members of the Super Six sniggered, but Henry just glared at him. “I call upon the witnesses here that I, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, do take thee, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, as my lawfully wedded husband.” 

“I’ve been told there will be no ring exchange?” she asked. “Is that correct?” 

“Yes,” Henry answered. He and Alex had struggled with the decision, but for now they were opting to forego the wearing of wedding rings. It was something they might revisit in six months to a year, when the press wouldn’t be laser focused on them. But for now, it was the best choice. 

“Okay, then you have both made the declarations prescribed by law and have made a solemn and binding contract with each other and in the presence of the witnesses assembled here. It therefore gives me the greatest honor and pleasure to inform you and those gathered that you are now husband and husband.” She looked at Henry. “Please kiss your groom.” 

He framed Alex’s face between his hands, and tilted it up. As he kissed him, he was reminded of that first kiss so long ago under the Linden trees. The kiss that had started it all. Henry intentionally kept his pressure gentle, both of his lips wrapping around one of Alex’s. He felt Alex smile and he pulled back. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I need you both to sign the register, and I’ll be out of your way.” Edna pulled a large book from her case. She looked out to their friends and family. “I’m sure you lot are bursting at the seams to celebrate, but just a few more minutes.” 

Half an hour later, Shaan had put Edna in her car and the wedding party was gathered around a large banquet table that attendants had carried in. Bea and Pez had carefully overseen as a three tier cake was carried in, as well as six bottles of Dom Perignon. Nora had hooked her phone into the sound system and music was playing. Henry watched as Alex, June, and Martha danced together. 

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” Philip asked. 

Henry looked over at his older brother. “No,” he answered. “I never expected to have any of this.” 

“Because Gran?” Philip questioned. “And me?” 

“Hmmm.” The younger man was looking at his new husband. “Yes and no. When Da died, I was scared for a long time. Nothing was easy anymore, you know? It even hurt to breathe most days.” He looked down. “And I thought about taking the easy way out. A lot.” 

“Hen—”

“I never tried,” he continued. “Shaan saw the signs and he helped me find someone to talk to. But it wasn’t easy being a sensitive, live-wire in this family when it seemed like you and Gran were judging me all the time. Sometimes it is still not easy. But Alex makes it… better. He makes it tolerable, even on the worst days.” 

“I understand that.”

Henry saw that Philip was looking at his own wife. “I don’t know if you know this, but I saw him for the first time in Rio. At the Olympics. It was my first event after Da and I was an utter arse to him, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. It’s the reason why he was a prick for so long. Sometimes I think about how much time we wasted. I think about the fact that it took him pulling me into a cake at _your wedding_ for us to get here and it just baffles me.” 

“Mazzy was right pissed at you for a long time about that, you know?” Philip pinched the bridge of his nose. “She went on about it our entire honeymoon. I thought she might kill the both of you, honestly.” 

“Seriously, Pip. The traditional wedding cake is a fruit cake with royal icing. The one time you break tradition and you get a catastrophe.” Henry laughed. “Serves you right.” 

“I see you followed tradition yourself,” his brother pointed out. “That doesn’t look like fruit cake or royal icing.” 

“I married an American. You know they know sod all about tradition.” The blond prince laughed. “I don’t know if Alex has ever eaten fruit cake, actually.” 

“He’s in for a treat, then.” Philip cleared his throat. “Can we be serious for a moment?” When Henry raised an eyebrow, he continued. “We’ve never talked about them… the emails. But after you moved to America, I read them. And I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We never really discussed it, and then we just let things… heal how they did, and at the risk of peeling back old wounds, I want to address them. 

“I was an utter arse after Da. To you and Bea both, but definitely to you. It took reading your words to Alex for me to realize that fully and in the last month I’ve really examined my actions and spent many a long night thinking over those years and I know I owe you an apology. You needed a brother, not someone to replace Da, and unfortunately I didn’t see that.” Philip swallowed. “I was dealing with my own grief and I thought if I let you see that, I would… be less of a man or something.” 

Henry nodded. “Thank you.” 

“I, uh—” His cheeks reddened. “I also reached out to my mates, about… well, you know what you told Alex.” 

“Pip—” 

“I needed to know, H,” he cut him off. “I needed to know which one of those bastards _took advantage of you_ when Da was sick and dying. Or worse, when he’d just died.” 

“And? Did you find out?” 

Philip shook his head. “I have my suspicions. But I’m guessing you won’t tell me.” 

“No.” Henry looked at his brother. “There are some things better left in the past, mate.” The familiar chords of _Your Song_ started and Henry smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, this is our song. I’m going to dance with my husband.” 

Later that night when everyone was gone and the ballroom was cleared, Henry and Alex were alone together in their room. There was a plate with a large slice of cake. Vanilla covered with fluffy buttercream icing. Neither of them had had any earlier, too busy smashing cake in each other’s face. There was also a full bottle of Dom Perignon, chilling in an ice bucket. 

They were sitting cross-legged on blankets, the lights dimmed in the room. Bea had taken David for the night. 

“Would you be mad if I got you a wedding gift?” Henry asked. 

Alex smiled. “No, because I got you one.” He smiled. “You go first.” 

The prince handed over the black box. “I know we said no rings, but I thought we might… wear them in private. At home. Or on chains? And I got one for both of us, too.” He watched as Alex opened the box and looked at the two platinum bands. “I know Philip doesn’t wear a ring, and neither have the other men in my family, but I want to.” 

Alex picked one of them up. “They’re beautiful, baby.” He held it up to eye-level. “Did you have them engraved?” 

Henry nodded. “Yes.” 

“What do they say?” Alex ran his finger along the inside. “Should I guess?” 

The blond laughed. “If you want.” 

“Hmmm.” Alex pretended to think. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mine says… _Gay for Henry_ and yours says _Power Bottom_.” 

“I can’t believe I married you!” Henry chided. 

“No, I know. Mine says, _Bloody Wanker_ and yours says, _DSL_.” Henry tossed his head back and laughed. Alex smiled. “Do you want to tell me what they say?” 

Henry leaned forward and kissed his husband. “I love you, you bloody wanker.” 

Alex held it up to the light. “That’s a lot to fit in that little ring, Henry. The engraver must have been fantastic!” 

“They _both_ say, _one thousand percent, forever_.” Henry watched as Alex’s face morphed from one of amusement to awe. “Happy Wedding Day, darling.” 

He took the larger of the two rings and slid it on to Alex’s left ring finger. It stuck slightly at the knuckle, but a small push got it on. “It wouldn’t be nearly as cool if I’d sized your finger wrong.” 

“How did you size my finger?” 

“Used some string while you were sleeping,” Henry answered. His hand shook slightly as Alex slipped his own ring on. “Plus the jeweler had me take pictures, which he used with some kind of special 3D technology… I don’t know. Shaan found him and I just trusted that it would all work out.” He smiled. “And it did.” 

“It did,” Alex agreed. He held up his left hand, the ring catching in the light. “Happy Wedding Day. You are the sweetest, most sincere man alive. And now my gift feels completely inadequate.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Henry held out his hands, palms up. “Hand it over.” 

“Stay here.” The other man pushed himself up and walked to the second closet. He stepped inside and returned with a large box, an emerald green bow on top. “Cash and Shaan deserve props for helping me pull this together. We owe them… a lot.” 

“Agreed. I’ve been actively not thinking about the fact that Shaan is leaving for good at the end of this month.” Henry took the box and lifted the top. Inside were two very old, very fragile books. He pulled one out. _The Novels of Jane Austen_ was embossed in gold across the cover. “Are these first editions?” 

“First US editions,” Alex clarified. “From 1838. They’re not in excellent shape, but I did figure you wouldn’t be reading from them.” He touched Henry’s hand. “They’ll be nice for your office or to look through from time to time.” Alex quieted as Henry looked through each book volume. “Do you like them?” 

“I bloody love them, Alex.” Henry looked up. “They’re too much, but I love them.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “And I love you.” 

His husband smiled. “I love you, too.” Alex exhaled. “But I need to tell you something.” He pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it over to Henry. “Something I likely should have told you before now, if I’m honest.” 

Henry took the paper and unfolded it. His eyes scanned the words. “Is this a summons?” He looked up. “To Gran’s will reading?” When Alex nodded, he asked, “She left you something?” 

“I guess?” 

“Do you know what it is?” Henry asked. “Alex.”

“Several years ago your Gran offered me money if I would leave you,” he confessed. “It was after Mom’s second inauguration, before I started at NYU, when I was basically just tagging along as you went from place to place. She summoned me to Buckingham Palace and had a check and told me if I signed a contract, the money was mine, but I had to agree to never see you again.” Alex sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I never planned to tell you, if I’m being completely honest, but I’m certain that it’s going to come up tomorrow.” 

“How much money?” the prince asked. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes,” Henry half-sobbed. “I want to know how much my bloody happiness was worth to my own grandmother!” 

“Twenty million,” he answered. 

The sound that came out of Henry was bitter. “She was worth £500 million and I’m only worth twenty? Who says money can’t buy love?” He reached for the opened bottle of champagne and took a healthy swallow. They hadn’t bothered with glasses. Henry wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “What was her reaction when you told her no?” 

“She was angry and it was clear that not many people told her no.” Alex reached for the bottle and took his own pull. “She said… Uh, she said that it was how she should’ve dealt with your father.” 

“Bullocks.” Henry exhaled loudly. “What a bint.” 

“Baby,” his husband chided. “I know you’re upset, but name calling won’t help. Especially now.” 

The blond reclaimed the alcohol and tipped it back. “I’m not going tomorrow,” he announced. “I don’t want anything of hers.” When Alex started to protest, Henry held up his hand. “I’m not going to stop you from going, but _I’m_ not going.” 

“Yes, you are,” Alex insisted. The other man shook his head, but Alex pressed on. “You need to understand that your grandmother was completely sure that I was going to make you shirk your royal duties and embarrass your family.” 

“Are you taking her side?” 

“I’m on your side now and always, H. You know that.” The younger man entwined their fingers, their wedding rings clinking together. “Don’t doubt me because you’re upset. But I don’t want you to make an irrational decision right now because of what I just told you, okay?” He squeezed his fingers. “I didn’t tell you because I was trying to protect you and I was trying to keep you from being hurt.” 

“I know,” Henry murmured. “But—” 

“It still hurts,” his husband concluded. “I know. But your family needs you there tomorrow, okay? Your Mum and Bea and Philip.” 

“And you?” The blond looked up. “Do you need me there?” 

“Always,” Alex answered. “I will always need you there with me.” He tried to smile. “I didn’t want you to be blindsided, Hen. And I truly thought it would never come up again. I’ve been in the room with her a handful of times since that day and she never mentioned it, so I assumed it was forgotten. But it’s the only reason I can imagine she would have me summoned to her will reading.” 

Henry nodded. “You’re likely right.” He pressed his forehead to Alex’s. “Thank you for telling me because I wouldn’t want to be blindsided tomorrow.” He exhaled. “For the record? You’re my family.” 

“You’re my family, too,” Alex responded immediately. He loosened their hands and wrapped an arm around his husband. “C’mere.” 

\---

The Barrister cleared his throat. “It seems we’re all here, so let's begin. Her Majesty has asked that the principle members of the family, as well as their spouses and partners be present for this part of the reading. That is to include Mrs. Catherine Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Philip Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor and his wife, Martha, Beatrice Fox-Moutchristen-Windsor, and Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, and his partner, Alexander Claremont-Diaz.” He looked at the stenographer. “Please make a note that all members are present.

“We are gathered here, this 20th day of April, 2022 to read the will of the late Mary Elizabeth Alexandria Mountchristen-Windsor. This is her last will and testament, updated and filed with the law firm Farrer & Co on September 19, 2021. She was of sound mind when it was filed. I will now begin with the reading: 

“First, I wish that the line of succession passes to my grandson Philip. He is to be my heir. To Philip I also leave a sum of fifty million pounds and a trust of ten million pounds each for any children he and Martha should have. 

“For my granddaughter Beatrice, I leave a sum of fifty million pounds and a trust of ten million pounds each for any children she should have. I also leave my granddaughter Beatrice the Vladimir Tiara, the Queen Victoria Jubilee Necklace, and the Lover’s Knot Tiara. I know those are your favorites, my dear. I also want you to have to Highgrove House. You have always loved it the most.

“For my grandson Henry, I leave a sum of fifty million pounds and a trust of ten million pounds each for any children he and Mr. Claremont-Diaz should have. Additionally, I leave to him ownership of Hatfield House, Thatched House Lodge, and Frogmore Cottage. There is a lot of history in those homes, Henry and I know you will love them. 

“For Martha, my dear granddaughter-in-law, I leave to you Anmer Hall. I know you and Philip will make Buckingham Palace your home, but you have turned Anmer into a true home in these last several years. A woman should always have her own home and place to go, if necessary. Additionally, I want you to have all the jewels you wore on your wedding day. You looked beautiful, my dear.

“For Mr. Claremont-Diaz, a relative newcomer to this family, I leave to you Clarence Hall and Llwynywermod. The former for the same reason I left Martha her own home, and the latter because it has always been a favorite of Henry’s. You have changed his life in all ways for the better. In addition, I’m leaving you a sum of twenty million pounds. I’m sure you know why. 

“For my daughter Catherine, I leave a sum of one hundred million pounds and the remainder of the jewels and property. I know it doesn’t replace the years I spent acting as Your Queen instead of your mother, but I do hope it’s a start. The day you stood up for me on Henry’s behalf was one of my proudest.” 

The six of them looked around at each other and then back to the barrister. “And the rest?” Catherine asked. 

“She asked that the remaining money be donated to charities of your choice,” he answered. His eyes slid over to Henry. “The Queen specifically mentioned the Henry Foundation and Beatrice Fund as options to consider. She was very proud of the work you two were doing.” The two grandchildren nodded. “There are some odds and ends here, but that’s the bulk of it. No one else is specifically mentioned.” 

The older man started to pack his suitcase. “If there is nothing else, then I guess I’ll be on my way.” He stood. “I am very sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you,” Catherine murmured. 

Martha stood. “I’ll show you the way out.” She stood and gestured to the door. 

When it closed behind them, the five members behind them all exchanged looks. Everyone was silent, no one wanting to break the silence. Henry took Alex’s hand in his and squeezed. 

“So,” Alex finally asked, “What happens next?” 

\---

_finis_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been a ride. Thanks for all the support along the way. I feel like I'll probably come back and visit these two (in this universe) someday. The story doesn't feel quite complete. 
> 
> I did a lot of research for this chapter and wanted to share- 
> 
> 1\. [Marriages & Civil Partnerships in the UK](https://www.gov.uk/marriages-civil-partnerships)
> 
> 2\. [The Script for the Civil Ceremony I heavily cribbed from. ](https://www.guidesforbrides.co.uk/wedding-ideas/sample-civil-ceremony/)
> 
> 3.[The Jane Austen Book Set](https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?an=Jane+Austen&fe=on&sortby=1)
> 
> (I thought you could use your imagination on the rings, tbh... I mean, they're round, platinum, & inscribed?) 
> 
> And extra special thanks to my beta, Missy. I have a crippling fear that everything I write is crap without her telling me it isn't.


End file.
